Faded Glory
by Flashfyre5
Summary: Ranma never did make it to the Tendo doujo when he was sixteen. Nor in the following two years did he come. Now, at nineteen, he finally completes his trek, but the delay has changed him... and not for the better.


Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the long-venerated Rumiko Takahashi. She has made a great deal of money from Ranma 1/2. I have made none. Thus, I am very, very, very poor. Please, don't sue me.

Faded Glory

by Flashfyre5

Chapter 1: Better Late Than Never

From May until July in most of Japan, it rains. And rains. And rains. Not constantly, but close enough to it for it to be extremely unwise to go anywhere without a large and sturdy umbrella. Also, due to the frequency and intensity of the rain, many more people choose to use the varied and readily accessible forms of public transportation that the country has made so painstakingly convenient. Thus, the sight of a pretty, red-haired woman walking at an easy pace down one of Tokyo's streets without an umbrella is rather surprising, even for a ward like Nerima, which has somewhat of a reputation for oddness.

The sight of the full-grown and rather overweight panda bear walking upright next to her was quite a bit more unusual. The white duck that squatted on the giant raccoon's head, with oversized thick glasses balanced precariously on its beak made the scene quite surreal.

"Where're we goin' again, pop?" the girl asked offhandedly, shifting the large pack she bore. Her furry companion held up a sign that read 'Tendo Doujo.' The redhead nodded, and the sign flipped. The reverse read 'It's still a few blocks down.' Conversation ceased for a few minutes.

"Pop?" the redhead said, looking over.

'Yes?' the sign read.

"Thanks," she replied. The panda nodded, and the duck riding atop it had to scramble to stay put.

'Don't mention it.'

- - - - - -

_Tendo-_

_Bringing Ranma from China. _

_Don't mention the agreement._

_-Genma_

Soun's hands shook as he re-read the postcard that his best friend had sent for the fifth time that day. It had arrived two days prior, and the extremely emotional man had read it a total of twenty-eight times since it had arrived. He'd kept tally in his journal.

"Finally," he said, trying not to cry. It was largely an effort in futility, even he understood, because the Tendo patriarch was liable to cry if one of his daughters were to spill a glass of milk at the supper table. "Finally, my friend, you come to deliver me from this Hell!" Soun nodded to himself. It was time.

"Nabiki!" he cried, charging up the stairs to the second level.

"What is it, Daddy? I'm busy!" she called back as her father skidded to a stop in front of her doorway. The middle Tendo was crouched over a very nice notebook computer, a gift that had come along with her college scholarship. The auburn-haired girl had returned from college for the summer, but was taking a course online. As such, she spent most of her days holed up in the room she'd occupied since she was two.

"Family meeting, downstairs," he said, bursting. After a moment's thought, he added, "Do you know where Akane is?"

"Dojou, same as always," Nabiki signed, her annoyance clear.

"Right, then," the Tendo patriarch said, careening back downstairs. Nabiki stared down at him as he left, then pushed herself to her feet.

"Whatever it is, he's pretty worked up," she muttered, thinking to herself.

- - - - - -

"Akane!" Soun shouted, pulling the door to his dojou open. Akane looked up, dust from the cinder block that she'd just sundered still drifting through the air. "Family meeting, inside!" he continued, not giving her a chance to say anything. The youngest Tendo sighed and dusted herself off. Long hair, which she'd been cultivating for almost a decade now, slipped over her shoulders and into her face, despite the ties that were supposed to keep it in place.

"Be there in a minute," she called after her father, tossing her hair back into place. A small hand towel wiped away the worst of her sweat, and Akane began to make her way towards the house proper.

- - - - - -

"Kasumi," Soun almost shouted, but checked himself at the last moment. Kasumi simply wasn't the type of person you shouted at, even when circumstances were as momentous as they were now.

"Yes, father?" she asked, wiping her hands. A small diamond glittered on her left hand, set into a ring that she was plainly proud of, even though her modesty prohibited her from exhibiting it openly.

"Are you going to be here for the rest of the day?" he asked. Last year, when Akane had left for college, the eldest Tendo had found herself with a great deal of time on her hands, and nobody to look after. Though it had been somewhat untraditional, Kasumi had gone out of her way to court the family doctor, Ono Tofu. He had proposed to her several months ago, to her delight. Engagement rings, she had told her father, just looked odd on a man's finger.

"Until dinner," she replied. "Tofu-chan's asked me out tonight. Isn't that sweet of him?" Soun looked dumbly at his daughter for a moment.

"He's your fiancé," Soun deadpanned.

"It's still very sweet of him," Kasumi returned, and there was no room for argument against that sort of logic.

"Anyway, we're going to have a family meeting now," he said.

"I'll be there in a moment," she replied, putting a small stack of plates in the cupboard above the sink where she'd just finished doing the dishes.

Soun strolled away from the kitchen and into the dining room, his head held high. Nabiki was already waiting for him at the table. Now, with Saotome's aid, perhaps the demon could finally be defeated.

"Family meeting, eh?" a wizened voice crowed from just behind the black-haired martial artist. Soun froze instantly, horror evident on his face. "I guess I should attend, even though I'm not technically a Tendo."

"Oh, you don't have to worry yourself, Master," Soun said soothingly as Happosai passed him. The ancient master had, by the size of the 'loot' sack he carried, been out molesting the population at large again. A part of Soun's brain that wasn't horrified at the prospect of Happosai knowing that his other disciple was returning noted that the bag was new, and had the word 'swag' embroidered on its side in big, red letters.

"If it's important enough for your family, it's important enough for me," Happosai said firmly, setting his bag on the floor next to the dining room table and climbing up on it. He fished around his black gi for a moment, then produced and lit a pipe. He was soaking wet, and his bag dripped on the tatami enough that Soun knew that they'd stain.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that," Nabiki sighed, referring both to the master's smoking and perversion.

"So does everyone else, Nabs. Never stopped me before," Happosai returned with a cackle. Nabiki's teeth fairly ground at the lecher's nickname. She hated it, and he knew it. "Besides," Happosai continued, "how could I leave my Silky Darlings unliberated?"

"Preferably by dying," Nabiki growled, which only caused Happosai to cackle more loudly.

"Master, you're staining the tatami," Kasumi quietly admonished, and Happosai seemed to shrink a bit. Of all the women in Nerima, only Kasumi was immune to his 'affections,' for reasons unknown to everyone. Only she could cow him, and even then, only occasionally.

"Sorry, Kasumi," he said sheepishly, tossing his bag out onto the porch, where he'd collect it later.

"Am I late?" Akane asked, entering the room just as Happosai slid the shoji shut.

"We were just about to start," Soun said, taking his place at the head of the table. Happosai gathered himself to leap towards Akane, but Kasumi was watching him intensely, and the ancient man simply couldn't find it in him to take to Akane's bosom under her scrutiny, so he simply hopped onto the table and sat down.

"What's up, Daddy?" Nabiki finally asked. Soun hauled out a battered and bent postcard and held it up.

"This," he said, emotion beginning to overwhelm him, "is from a very old friend of mine. We endured the horrors of Hell itself together when we were young."

"I'm right here, you know," Happosai glared.

"Right. Well," Soun glanced around the tears that had been about to stream down his face gone. "Anyway, that old friend of mine is coming to stay with us for a while. He had actually intended to come three years ago, but he and his son got hung up in China."

"Ooh, China," Nabiki admired. "Bet he's rich."

"Umm, no," Soun replied, scratching the back of his head.

"Wait, this wouldn't be Genma, would it?" Happosai asked, doom in his voice. Soun looked frantically about the room, hoping for some way out.

"Kind of," he replied lamely.

"Genma Saotome? The Genma Saotome that got me drunk, beat me up, tied me to a rock, threw me into a cave stuffed with dynamite, then sealed me in with a giant boulder?" Happosai growled, conveniently forgetting that Soun had played a rather large part in those events.

"Uhh," Soun cringed.

"Wow, you'd think that that would've worked," Nabiki noted dryly.

"Yeah. He must have some kind of immunity to dynamite," Akane agreed.

"I'll just have to call Mr. Mita and cancel our order, then," Kasumi said sadly, and her sisters nodded in agreement.

"You think C4'd work better?" Nabiki wondered aloud.

"Hey!" Happosai sputtered, his rage redirected "I'm right here!" Fortunately for the continuation of the Tendo line, the doorbell chose that moment to ring.

"Saotome, my friend, you've come to save me!" Soun cried, making a dash for the door. When he threw it open, he was ready for a great deal. He'd not seen Genma in thirteen years, since he'd set out with his son to train. For all he knew, Genma might be wearing a business suit, having finally stolen enough money to afford one.

He was not, however, ready to see a duck. With humongus glasses balanced, though listing slowly to the left, on its beak.

"Quack," the duck greeted him. Soun looked down. The duck was perched atop the head of an overweight panda bear. The panda bear was wearing a dirty, white karate gi. That was nice.

"Growf," the panda added. Soun decided that this would be an excellent time to faint, so he did.

"I'm Ranma Saotome," the busty, sodden redhead that stood next to the two animals said sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout all this."

"Where's Genma?" Happosai roared, skittering out of the dining room. As he caught sight of Ranma, wet silk shirt clinging to her figure in just the right ways, his eyes widened in appreciation. "There is a God!" he declared after a moment's consideration, Genma completely forgotten on account of what he was quite sure was a beautiful, bosomy, and especially bra-less woman standing at the threshold of his 'adopted' home.

"Huh?" Ranma said intelligently, rather certain that she didn't like the way that the shriveled old man was looking at her.

"Sweet-o!" Happosai shouted, launching himself towards Ranma's bosom. As he flew, Happosai found himself impressed; the girl was already sliding into a defensive stance most commonly seen in judo. Happosai was snatched out of the air just inches away from Ranma's chest, and the redhead spun once and drove him facefirst into the floorboards of the Tendo household's entryway, in what was quite clearly not a judo maneuver.

"Just one touch of Heaven, that's all I ask," Happosai groaned, dark thoughts stirring in the depths of his mind.

"Damn it, Happosai," Akane cursed, hopping down into the entryway. She ripped Happosai's battered form from Ranma's grip and punted him out the still-open front door. "And stay out this time!" she shouted after him, then slammed the door.

"Sorry about that," Akane said to the surprised-looking girl.

"You know him?" she asked.

"Kind of," Akane hedged, "he trained my father a long time ago. Three years ago, he turned up again, and now we can't get rid of him."

"That seemed to work pretty well," Ranma deadpanned.

"He'll be back. He always comes back," Akane explained, tinges of dread in her voice. She bent over and picked up her father's fallen form, then hefted it over her shoulder with little apparent effort.

"Oh," Ranma said, feeling unusually normal. After a moment, the black-haired woman stuck out her free hand.

"I'm Akane. Want to be friends?" she asked, a warm smile on her face. Relief eased the worry on the redhead's face.

"Sure," she replied. "I'm Ranma."

"It's tough to catch Happosai. Do you do Kempo?" Akane asked, walking into the house. Ranma cautiously followed her into the dining room, the panda training behind.

"A little," Ranma admitted as Akane laid her father down on a futon set up in the corner of the room.

"Hello," Kasumi greeted her, tucking her father in. "I'm sorry about Father. He gets so emotional sometimes."

"That's, uhh... just fine," Ranma replied, the unnerving feeling of normalcy growing within her.

"Where'd Nabiki go?" Akane asked, looking around the room.

"She went back upstairs when she heard Father faint," Kasumi replied. "Is Grandfather Happosai gone?"

"I gave him the boot," Akane said.

"Good," Kasumi nodded, her usually unflappable good cheer replaced for a moment by genuine satisfaction. She stood up from her father's side and walked towards the kitchen. As the auburn-haired woman passed Ranma, she slowed, then stopped.

"You poor dear, you're soaking wet. I'll draw up the furo for you in a minute," she fussed, then walked away.

"You don't have ta," Ranma protested through the wall.

"It's no trouble, really," Kasumi replied. After a minute, she returned from the linen closet, a towel draped over her arm and a bowl of water in her hands. She handed the towel, a fluffy, white affair, to Ranma, then kneeled next to her father. Taking a small hand towel out of the bowl, she wrung it, then placed it across her father's forehead.

"It'll take a couple of minutes to get the furo ready," Akane said. "You want to have a little match?"

"Actually," Ranma said, perking up visibly, "that'd be great."

- - - - - -

The doujo was an old-fashioned building, connected to the house proper by a covered walkway. A few shinai hung from one wall in a lacquered wooden rack, and kendo gear hung next to it. At the far front of the doujo, a small, simple shrine sat. Akane bowed to it when she entered, so Ranma followed suit before continuing to gawk at the beautifully-appointed room.

"I love this place," Akane sighed, noting Ranma's appreciation. "Things get so weird around here. The doujo's like a sanctuary, where I can just work out and make everything go away for a while."

"That's a nice thought," Ranma murmured, his eyes far away. Akane's brow furrowed, concern in her eyes.

"What'd you say?" she asked.

"Nothing," Ranma shook her head, and offered a roguish half-grin. "And this place aint too weird, compared to a lotta places I've been." Akane wasn't convinced in the least, particularly considering the rapid change in topic, but Ranma obviously wasn't interested in talking about whatever was on her mind.

"Fine," Akane grinned, slipping into a kempo stance, her arms outstretched and ready. "You ready?" Ranma nodded, shifting her legs just a bit wider. Akane noted the change in weight, recognizing the stance as one that her father'd taught her years ago. It worked best when your opponent didn't appreciate your skill, as it offered a range of movement for more complex maneuvers, but very little in the way for more simple tactics.

"I won't go easy on you!" Akane shouted, charging forward and opening with an open-palmed strike. Ranma faded back, then turned to the side as Akane's other fist shot forward. Akane's jaw dropped at her speed, even as she tried to follow-up with a sloppy snap kick. The second strike should've clipped her, at least; the first had been a feint. Ranma bent way back at the knees and waist, and Akane's kick went high. She reversed quickly, though, using her forward momentum to turn the kick into a stomp. The red-haired girl somehow managed to twist to the left, despite how exposed her falling dodge had left her. Akane's foot struck the wooden floor hard, the impact ringing off the doujo's wooden walls. Ranma was already in a crouch and spinning, though, and her left leg came around and caught Akane's rear foot in its' rotation. Akane realized with shock as she fell just how much she'd overextended with the stomp, but it was too late. The ebon-haired woman hit the floor facedown, tucking to roll to her right, and away from Ranma. The first thing Akane saw when her eyes were turned skyward was Ranma, who had leapt as soon as Akane had fallen. The redhead was already descending, her right leg extended in a flying axe kick, her left already tucked so that she'd be able to strike Akane's prone form. The raven-haired girl barely had time to close her eyes before Ranma struck.

But the blow never landed.

Cautiously, Akane opened her eyes. Ranma's heel hung about a half inch above her throat. The girl crouched, having arrested her fall with only her already-tucked leg, and had managed to do so without even touching Akane.

"Wow," Akane breathed, genuinely impressed. Had Ranma misjudged even in the slightest and followed through with the kick, her windpipe would've been crushed. Though Akane was fairly sure she could duplicate the maneuver with practice, she was sure that she'd never have the confidence to use it, considering the risks involved.

"Gotcha," Ranma grinned, tucking her still-extended right leg underneath herself. Akane sat up and rubbed her throat subconsciously, then stared at Ranma.

"You could've hurt me there," she said after a moment.

"Nah," Ranma shook her head, standing. "The Ghoul made me practice that until I could control my heel to the millimeter."

"Who?" Akane asked, mildly confused. Ranma's eyes clouded over immediately, and the already-small girl seemed to shrink.

"Nobody. Forget I said anything," Ranma said, walking towards the door of the doujo with a kind of urgency that Akane had never seen her move with. "I'm gonna go take a bath. Thanks for the workout," she said, sliding the door shut behind her. Akane was left blinking in shock, still sitting on the floor.

"What just happened there?" she wondered aloud.

- - - - - -

Ranma crouched over the cold tile floor of the furo, scrubbing herself. A small wooden bucket sat next to her, a towel flopping out of it. The little plastic container that she kept her soap in was lying discarded on the floor, the soap in her hands as she tried to grind the dirt of the road, sweat from the doujo, and something less tangible from her body. After almost five minutes, Ranma sighed and tossed her soap aside, giving up. Her skin was red from the force of her cleansing, but Ranma still wasn't satisfied. She wondered idly if she'd ever be. The redhead stood, her pigtail thumping against her back. She snatched it and held it to her nose, then wrinkled her face. It stank. She'd have to wash it.

The pigtail, greasy with the filth from life on the road, came undone with a little work. The next step, however, would be more difficult. Ranma stared at the little, green bottle of shampoo, nestled next to her borrowed towel. It wasn't the same, she told herself, as she always did. It never helped. After rallying herself, Ranma closed her eyes, picked up the bottle, and started to wash her hair. Faster and faster she went, hands blurring as she performed the task as quickly as she could. A blast of cold water from the wall-mounted shower began to wash away the suds at her command, mere moments after she'd finished washing the last of her hair. As the chilly water drove the soap from her body and hair, Ranma pounded the wall once.

"Stop it," she growled, shutting off the stream. A shuddering breath later, Ranma had regained control of herself. "I had to do it," she told herself, as she had a hundred times in the last month. She believed it, too. Every time she doubted, a glance at the scars that now crisscrossed her torso reminded her of what she'd escaped, despite the price. Ranma had no doubt that she would've died, had she stayed. Ranma padded over to the steaming furo and slid in, her body rippling and changing. By the time she was fully submerged, she was no longer a she, having regained her masculinity.

"Damn, that feels good," Ranma muttered to himself, relaxing in the incredible heat of the furo. He could count the number of times he'd enjoyed such a bath on the fingers of one hand, and had savored every one of them. This one in particular, he enjoyed, knowing that his father would soon move on. The old man had never been able to maintain relations with anybody he stayed with after a few days, when it became apparent that he wouldn't be paying for his stay. The way that Genma had talked about his old buddy Tendo, Ranma was fairly sure that he'd move on well before the question of restitution was raised.

"Still, this place is really nice," Ranma muttered, leaning back against the side of the deep tub. After a few minutes, he reached over the side of the furo for his hair-tie, and began to re-braid his pigtail. She had preferred it braided, and he couldn't shake the habit, no matter how hard he tried. After a few more minutes, Ranma stood up, his skin a bright pink from the heat of the furo.

The door slid open, and Ranma glanced up. Standing naked, aside from a tiny washcloth that covered her most important bits was Akane, her eyes as big as dinner plates.

"I'll be out in a minute," he said, his head bowed. The dark-haired man snatched up his towel and wrapped it around his waist, and he heard the door closing. Another glance confirmed that Akane had left the furo, and he sighed. "Well, I guess we'll be leaving sooner, then," he muttered as he dried himself.

- - - - - -

Very calmly, Akane re-dressed herself in the karate gi that she'd just discarded. There was a boy in the furo. She tightened the belt around her waist, and stepped from the changing room. There was a handsome boy in the furo. Slowly, she descended the stairs, still sorting things through. There was a handsome boy in the furo who had seen her naked. Something in her brain clicked, and her eyes narrowed. He must be a pervert. Only perverts look at naked women. There was, therefore, a pervert in the furo. A handsome pervert, but a pervert nonetheless. She knew what to do with perverts.

Akane stepped past her father and a fat, bald man in a dirty white karate gi. They were laughing and drinking huge mugs of beer. The duck was pecking at the fat man. She made a note to herself to ask who he was later. Once out in the garden, Akane picked up the stone lantern that had sat next to her family's koi pond for almost three centuries. She carried it back inside.

"Akane, where are you going with the stone lantern?" her father asked.

"There's a pervert boy in the furo," Akane explained, her eyes burning with barely-restrained fury.

"Ah," her father nodded sagely, then went back to his beer. Akane marched out of the dining room, and almost bowled Kasumi over, who was carrying a tray, burdened with two extra mugs of beer and a steaming kettle. Akane suspected that they were to replace the mugs that her father and his friend had almost drained in the other room. She had no idea what the kettle was for.

"Sorry, Kasumi," she muttered.

"That's all right," Kasumi smiled. "A pervert again?" she asked, edging around Akane and into the dining room.

"In the furo this time," Akane replied.

"I do wish Master Happosai would keep his friends away from the house," Kasumi sighed, distress almost, but not quite, finding its way onto her face. Akane nodded, then hefted the stone lantern up again. It was wet from the recently-stopped rainstorm, and the five-hundred pound monolith had been slipping in her grip.

"Don't worry. I'll go take care of him," Akane declared, and started again towards the stairs. She stopped short, however, when she realized that the pervert that she had been hunting had come to her, and was, in fact, wearing Ranma's clothes. He looked pitiful, tugging on his pigtail sheepishly as he glanced around the room. Well, as pitiful as a pervert could, she supposed.

"I'm Ranma Saotome. Sorry 'bout all this," the pervert said. Akane blinked once, and wondered why the furo pervert had the same name as the nice girl she'd met earlier. After a moment, she shrugged. Weirder things had happened, especially since Happosai had moved in. Careful not to hit the ceiling, Akane smashed the pervert over his head with the stone lantern, then marched off to put it back where it belonged.

- - - - - -

Nabiki leaned back in the faux black leather computer chair that she'd treated herself to upon her departure to college. Though the leather wasn't real, it was a good enough fake that one couldn't tell the difference by sight or touch, and that was certainly a powerful argument, as it spoke directly to Nabiki's pocketbook. She loved the chair. It was a small, physical comfort, something that she'd largely denied herself during her high school years. However, she wasn't relaxing in it.

Resting on her spartan desk was a wrinkled- one would almost say crumpled- post card. It had fallen out of her father's gi when he'd rushed to the door, and Nabiki had scooped it up as soon as nobody was looking towards where her father had been. One glance at the back had confirmed to her satisfaction that something was afoot, and she'd excused herself to her room immediately. Now, two abrupt lines ran through her head over and over again.

"Bringing Ranma from China. Don't mention the agreement," she murmured as her brain worked. The first sentence was simple enough, but the second was utterly ambiguous. From the context, Nabiki was sure that Ranma had something to do with the agreement that the card referred to. Ranma was female; her voice, half-heard through the thin walls of the Tendo house and Happosai's reaction when he'd rounded the corner had proven that to her satisfaction. What Nabiki couldn't puzzle out, however, was what agreement could possibly center around some girl she'd never met and her family. After a few more minutes of fruitless puzzling, however, Nabiki decided that there was a better way. She picked up her telephone and dialed a number from a list that she kept nearby.

"Good afternoon, Nerima City courthouse," an entirely too cheerful woman answered after two rings.

"Koji Ishamura, extension 2387, please," Nabiki said.

"One moment, please," the bubbly woman replied, and was mercifully replaced by the bland music of the holding circuit. After about a minute, the music cut out as the line was answered.

"Koji Ishamura, documents storage," a tired voice answered.

"Heya, Koji-kun," Nabiki purred.

"Nabiki," Koji said in surprise. "I haven't heard from you in a while. Still up to no good?"

"Of course," Nabiki replied. The middle-aged man had somewhat of an unhealthy crush on her, and Nabiki wasn't above taking advantage of the fact. Unfortunately, Koji had come to terms with the fact that Nabiki had no interest in him aside from the fact that he worked in the document storage department for the entirety of Nerima, and had taken to charging her a modest fee for his 'research.'

"Who're you looking for dirt on today?" the man asked.

"Nobody, actually," Nabiki replied honestly. "I think Daddy might have done something stupid. Could you check on any filed agreements between my family and someone named Genma Saotome?"

"The usual fee?" Koji asked hopefully.

"Try again, Koji-kun. It's my family; I could come down there and find out myself," Nabiki said flatly. "I just don't want to make the trip."

"Half?" he ventured.

"Fair enough. I'll deposit in the usual place," she replied.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Koji said. "I'll call if I find anything."

"Talk to you soon," Nabiki said, hanging up. Her mind at ease for now, Nabiki stood up and stretched, her arms flying over her head. She dropped them when she heard someone knock on the door.

"Nabiki?" Kasumi's voice intruded.

"Come on in, sis," Nabiki said, unlocking her door. Kasumi opened it enough to lean in.

"Father wants us downstairs again," the elder Tendo said. Nabiki nodded and followed her sister downstairs.

- - - - - -

Arrayed on the far side of the dining table were three men arranged, it seemed, in order of hair length. On the far left was an overweight man, who wore an off-white karate gi, glasses, and a white bandanna, which did little to hide the fact that he was completely bald. Next to him was the boy who had identified himself as Ranma before Akane had knocked him out. He held an ice pack to his head, where a large bruise had formed. To the far right was an unidentified boy with long, long hair and flowing, white robes. He wore glasses so thick that it was a wonder he could see at all.

"This is Genma Saotome, an old friend and training companion of mine," Soun introduced the fat man, who nodded. "He endured the Master by my side." Genma visibly shuddered at the mention of Happosai.

"I don't know," Nabiki thought aloud, glaring at the overweight martial artist intensely enough to make him squirm. "If he was Happosai's student..." she trailed off suspiciously.

"He came up with our last plan to kill the Master," Soun said.

"He's fine by me," Nabiki nodded, as if there had never been any doubt.

"This is my son, Ranma Saotome," Genma introduced his son.

"Wait a minute," Nabiki interrupted. "I thought Ranma was a girl."

"No, he's a pervert," Akane countered. "I don't know where the other Ranma went."

"Hrmm, how to put this," Genma puzzled aloud. After a moment's thought, he grabbed his son and chucked him out the open side door and into the Tendo family's koi pond.

"You bastard!" Ranma roared as he flew, then splashed into the pond. When he stormed back into the house, he was not a he at all, but a dripping-wet redheaded woman. "Y'know, Pop?" she growled, clamping a hand on her father's shoulder. With a sudden wrench, she chucked her father out the door, along the same trajectory that she'd just recovered from. "It's not polite ta throw people into ponds!" she shouted at her father's receding form. When the man splooshed into the koi pond, Ranma plopped down into her spot again.

"Anyway, this is Mu Tsu, a friend of mine from China," Ranma said after a moment. His father, now a panda, shook himself off outside, then re-entered the dining room. Kasumi got up to fetch the kettle that she'd prepared in preparation for this; she'd born witness to Genma's first transformation back to humanity.

"Hello. I understand that my name is difficult in Japanese. You may call me Mousse," the long-haired man bowed. None of the Tendos were paying him much attention, however, as Genma took that moment to pour hot water on himself, thus returning to human form.

"Am I going crazy?" Akane wondered aloud, staring in shock at the bald man as he handed the kettle to his son.

"During out travels, we happened on the cursed training ground of Jusenkyou," Genma explained. "It is a mysterious place, with hundreds of freshwater springs, each bearing a unique curse. If one falls in a spring, they become whatever drowned there last. Hot water reverses the transformation, but cold water triggers it."

"Truly, perilous is the life of the martial artist," Soun nodded sagely.

"Truly," Genma agreed.

"You idiot," Ranma said, smacking his father on the side of the head. "You had no idea what the place was!"

"Didn't you get a guidebook or something?" Nabiki deadpanned.

"It was in Chinese," Ranma said, as if that explained everything.

"He doesn't read Chinese, does he?" she realized after a moment.

"I didn't then," Genma admitted guiltily, "but I have since learned the basics of the language."

"Only 'cuz I was stuck in the damn Amazon village for three years!" Ranma shot back, smacking his father again. The fat man decided that he'd had enough, and tried to throw Ranma back out the door. The dark-haired youth was ready for him though, and reversed the throw, which sent Genma flying instead of his son. Ranma stormed out after the big man, and soon the two were trading blows.

"Ranma had a very difficult time in my village," Mousse explained, as the Tendos recovered from their surprise at Ranma and Genma's fighting. "He loves his father, but it was mostly the fat man's fault that he found himself trapped by my people."

"What do you mean?" Kasimu asked, prompting Mousse, as was polite.

"You see, when an outsider male defeats a woman of our tribe, he must marry her," the bespectacled man said. "He defeated Xian Pu, the woman I once loved. She married him, and I hated him for it. However, she... treated him poorly." Mousse paused, and looked out the door at Ranma's still-fighting and now-female form. "She abused the laws of our people, and had him beaten for every conceivable offense. He tried to run many times, and I slowly came to realize what Xian Pu was doing to him."

"She was breaking him, like a horse," Nabiki breathed in realization. Mousse nodded.

"Yes. Even her own family was shocked by what she was doing, but there was nothing that any of us could do. As an Amazon woman, she was permitted to punish him as she saw fit," Mousse continued.

"But," Nabiki said, and waited for Mousse to explain further.

"Ranma is a widower," Mousse conceded. "Xian Pu died recently, and it was through her passing that we were able to flee with him from the village."

- - - Author's Notes - - -

Hey, all. It's been quite some time since I've written anything, but I think it's been worth the wait. I've been hammering at this thing for a while (mostly in the concepting stages), and now that I've actually set key to digital paper, I'm quite satisfied with what I've got here. Yes, for those of you that are wondering, this is set three years after the original Ranma storyline, thus making it an AU. There will be significant differences in several characters from that time jump, most notably Ranma, Akane, and Mousse. These will be explained as they pop up, so don't bother asking me about anything!

Also, I want to sincerely thank everybody that was so supportive to me in my last fic, "Genin." Though I've decided to leave the Naruto fanfiction community, your support is and has been greatly appreciated. I write these things for you guys, you know! Anyway, drop me a line or a review or something, if you please. I'll respond to each that I can (e-mail addy is a requisite; I'm not wading through FFN's archaic e-mail protection protocols to root out your identity.)

Thanks again!

-Flash (Flashfyre5atmsndotcom)

Mood Music: "Searching For Light," ReMix by Shariq Ansari. Get it at


End file.
